REDMOND —

I shot a 6-under-par 66 the other day, and I wasn’t even the low golfer in my threesome.

No, I wasn’t playing in a group of PGA Tour hopefuls. (And I certainly have never been accused of being such.)

I was at Eagle Crest Resort’s 18-hole putting course, a twisting and sometimes confounding take on miniature golf.

And for the hour it takes to play the 1,693-foot course — yes, this golf layout is measured in feet, not yards — two players in our group got to learn what it feels like to be under par.

Eagle Crest charges players (other than resort guests) $10 for 18 holes, and each golfer receives an Eagle Crest logo golf ball. And golfers, or putters in this case, get the opportunity to turn miniature golf among friends into Tom Watson versus Jack Nicklaus in the legendary Duel in the Sun at Turnberry in the 1977 British Open.

Eagle Crest’s putting course, as well as Sunriver Resort’s putting course near its Meadows course, is similar to putt-putt golf. But there are no windmills or dreaded anthill holes at Eagle Crest’s course, which is nestled near the first hole of the resort’s Ridge Course. And the course uses real turf as a putting surface, cut short to simulate real green. (Though the greens on the putting course do roll a bit slower than Eagle Crest’s three conventional golf courses.)

Instead of the more bizarre hazards encountered at most miniature courses, Eagle Crest utilizes more traditional forms of golf trouble: a water hazard, and enough sand to warrant bringing a cooler and suntan lotion.

Ever try to putt a ball out of a bunker? It is no easy trick. Rougher still is whacking out of ankle-high fescue with a flat stick.

OK, so maybe the putting course won’t prepare a golfer for a true round of golf. But the place is unquestionably fun.

My threesome had more trash talking going on than a game of one-on-one basketball between Gary Payton and Charles Barkley.

And it is nice to throw away the shackles of golf decorum every once in a while.

Sadly, I came up two strokes short in my match.

Things seemed to be going so well until the 121-foot par-4 fourth hole. It was there that I got my first chance to hack out of the sand, which would become a common occurrence as the round went on. At a course where sand wedges are a no-no, I ripped my second shot out of the bunker and into the rough and eventually made bogey.

What is this, the British Open?

I got the shot back by nailing a 10-foot slider for birdie on the par-4 eighth hole. And I gave it away again on the impossible par-5 ninth after hitting sand, rough, and just about everything else on the hilly hole.

Then disaster truly struck on the par-4 10th hole, nicknamed the “Pit of Despair,” because it happens to feature a 10-foot-deep crater between the tee and the hole.

With a deft putting touch, or so I thought, I hit the tee shot down and nearly back up to hole high. But I watched as the ball slid back to the crater’s bottom.

This would have been a great time to reach for the loft wedge, which, of course, is not allowed.

Two putts later I was finally on the correct tier. But two more putts from there gave me double bogey, while my playing partner made birdie.

The competition was left at the bottom of a crater, as it turned out.

I had one more chance to gain ground, on the par-4 14th hole, nicknamed “Crater Lake” to honor the small water hazard between the tee and pay dirt. I navigated my way around the lake, using the hills to guide my ball back to the hole.

But I lost my advantage by missing the eagle putt.

And while I played the final four holes at 6 under par, my playing partner mocked my clutch finish when the match was all but over.

Hey, what are friends for?

So maybe this wasn’t Nicklaus versus Watson after all. But it was a ton more enjoyable than spending an hour at the practice green.

Where I apparently need to spend more time.